The Men of Faith
by apicturewithasmile
Summary: Being back on the island Ben is once again struggling with the consequences of Alex's death. When he faces the judgement of the smoke monster it burdens him with a task that conflicts with the promise he gave to John: not to kill again. / Meanwhile Dr. Linus not only has to deal with his annoying nosy father but also with the huge crush he has on his new colleague Mr. Locke.
1. nightmare

Warning: Contains graphic depictions of violence (especially in chapter 1) and mentions of death, suicide and blood.

Previously on LOST: Ben didn't kill John. They became lovers instead. After having been seperated due to issues with time-travel they are finally reunited and begin their new life together on the island. [I suggest reading part 2 of this series titled "Time After Time" for a better underdstanding. Parts 1 (Fair Game) and 3 (Pins and Needles) can be considered one-shots that take place in this AU but can be read out of context entirely.]

* * *

 ** _nightmare_** _[noun] 1. a dream arousing feelings of intense fear, horror, and distress; 2. an event or experience that is intensely distressing; 3. a demon or spirit once thought to plague sleeping people._

 _Daddy, please._

She begs, on her knees, she cries.

 _Daddy. Daddy. Daddy…_ she says it over and over again, then he shoots her.

He pulls the trigger without thinking twice.

He watches the bullet enter her skull and exit on the other side of her head.

He can see the blood spatter in every direction, some of it lands on his face.

He tastes her death.

Her eyes full of tears, her crimson face pressed against the walkie-talkie. Again he shoots her.

Again she dies in front of him, because of him. And again it starts all over.

 _If the island wants her dead, she'll be dead._

Charles Widmore wanted her dead so Ben shoots him. No. He raises his gun, he pulls the trigger, yet as soon as the bullet leaves the barrel of his gun it's not Widmore in front of him but Alex again, his sweet innocent Alex covered in blood and tears.

John is standing above the mass grave of the Dharma Initiative. Ben shoots him but the bullet hits Alex. Desmond is there, he protects his love, his family. Ben shoots him, but the bullet hits Alex. His father is there and so is the stench of alcohol, so are his fists.

 _It's hard to celebrate on the day you killed your mother._

Ben shoots him, but the bullet hits Alex.

Then he can watch himself, he sees it all happen, he wants it to stop, he yells at himself but he doesn't have a voice. Again and again and again he shoots his own daughter.

A figure stands behind him. Jacob. More like a force than a man, he gives Ben the gun, he points at Alex, he tells him what to do.

It never stops. He has no choice. He kills and kills and kills and kills and kills and….

 _I hope you're happy now, Jacob._

He points the gun on himself but the bullet hits Alex.

 _Daddy, please._

 _Daddy, please._

 _Daddy, please._

 _Daddy. Daddy. Daddy._

 _She's not my daughter. She's a pawn, nothing more. She means nothing to me._

"Ben, wake up!" John pleaded, shaking him gently.

Covered in sweat and trembling with fear Ben opened his blood-shot eyes. As his lungs ached for oxygen, his heart pounded against John's hands that were resting on his chest like a blanket shielding a child from the evils of the world.

"You were having a nightmare. It's over now. I'm here," John said, holding his boyfriend tightly, and whispered further solace in his ear to make him realise he's awake and safe from whatever horror he had been entangled in just moments ago.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Ben shook his head. His eyes were still those of a man who had been confronted with his biggest fear and was unable to run from it. "Just hold me," he said and leaned his head against John's chest. He made himself as small as possible, pressed his body closer against John's to signal that he wanted to be held tighter and tighter and tighter until he was completely enveloped by the kind of safety only John could offer. Silently he cried, focussing on John's heartbeat to calm himself down until he felt safe enough to close his eyes again.


	2. affection

**_affection_** _[noun] 1. a feeling of fondness or tenderness for a person or thing; 2. emotion, feeling, or sentiment._

It was the annual school dance and like every year since he had started working there it was Dr. Linus's duty to supervise the students and make sure they didn't get in or cause any trouble. He used to hate it but this year a small yet crucial detail was different: The new substitute teacher had offered to keep him company and together they were having more fun than he usually had with Dr. Arzt who was a decent colleague – he'd give him that – but not half as interesting as Mr. Locke.

"Can I get you a drink, Dr. Linus?"

"Please, I said you can call me Benjamin," he replied, faking an angry voice which put a smile on John Locke's face.

"Of course. I forgot. Can I get you a drink, _Benjamin_?"

The way John repeated his name made Ben feel strangely happy. It was just a name but John said it so beautifully as if it meant something special. Ben still didn't understand what fascinated him so much about his new colleague. Maybe it was just that he seemed to be one of the few people who didn't look at him like he was a complete loser – a fate he had lived with from the very first moment of his life. He came into this world by losing his mother and sometimes it seemed to him that whenever something good happened to him it was inseparably connected to the condition that he had to lose something in return. He began wondering what would be the price for finding a friend like John Locke.

"The fruit punch looks good," John added and leaned over to whisper in Ben's ear. "How about we check out if we can get drunk from tinned strawberries and an overdose of sugar?"

Ben giggled. "How could I say no to an experiment as intriguing as that?"

John went to the other side of the gym where the buffet had been neatly arranged and Ben couldn't help but watch him. He didn't dare to admit it to himself just yet but he would have loved to get to know this man better; to sit down with him and a bottle of wine, talking all night about their lives and dreams and how the wine tasted significantly better than the fruit punch.

A sudden tap on his shoulder ended Ben's daydreaming. "Are you having a good time, Dr. Linus?"

He turned around and looked at his favourite student Alexandra Rousseau. Although he knew it wasn't teacher-etiquette to have favourite students and he tried not to give her special treatment, it was hard to deny that he always made sure to have time when she needed his help preparing for an exam. This young woman was exceptionally talented and if he could do his bit to ensure she'd get the best possible education he'd do whatever was necessary.

"Alex. Yes. I'm….well… That hip hop music isn't really for me but I'm making the best of it," he said and instinctively glanced at John who was still queuing for the punch.

"Oh yes, I noticed you brought a date. He seems very nice," she said with a big grin.

Ben stared at her with big eyes and an open mouth. He felt as if he had been caught red-handed and tried to find a response that didn't make him sound even more suspicious. Was his affection for John really this obvious, he thought and hoped that John of all people didn't notice it, too.

Alex broke the silence with a loud laugh. "I'm just kidding. I know that's the new sub. You should have seen the look on your face."

Ben tried to play it off with a laugh but for the rest of the night he felt like every little gesture towards John might come off as flirtatious; that every little word said in the wrong tone could potentially expose his feelings for John.


	3. to worry

**_to worry_** _[verb] 1. To feel uneasy or concerned about something or someone; 2. to attempt to deal with something in a persistent or dogged manner._

It hadn't been the first time he had to wake Ben in the middle of the night. John began to worry, wondered if there was anything he could do but Ben would never talk to him about the nightmares. He'd just lie in his arms and cry until he fell asleep from exhaustion. They had been living on the beach for the past month, built a little shed out of materials scavenged from the old camp and for the first three weeks everything was perfect in their idyllic little home. Then the nightmares started and Ben was constantly on edge.

"Maybe you should see Jack," John said while cutting mangoes for breakfast.

"Pardon?" Ben said as if he had been ripped out of a daydream, causing John to wonder if one could also have day-nightmares.

"Maybe he can give you some sleeping pills so you can sleep through for a night or two. Plus paying Dharmaville a visit might actually be a good idea anyway. We could use some pots and plates and stuff and you could-" John stopped himself there. He was sure Ben's dreams had to do with Alex and he thought that going back to their house, her old room, might help Ben find some sort of closure, to say goodbye. But the last time he had made a suggestion like this they had a fight that ended with Ben running off into the jungle and not coming back until long after sunset. John didn't go after him – he knew even if he had been able to catch up with him it would've only made things worse.

"That's not necessary," Ben said and looked back at the ocean, drifting off into whichever thoughts he kept himself busy with.

"It might just be a good idea to, you know, give your body some rest."

"I don't want to rest!" Ben said louder than intended and immediately apologised. "I'm sorry. I…"

John put the knife and mango aside and sat down next to Ben. "I'm just worried about you, that's all. It breaks my heart to see you like this."

"I know." Ben rested his head on John's shoulder and closed his eyes. "But neither Jack nor his pills can help me with this."

"Then let _me_ help you." John let his fingers run through Ben's tousled hair and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. "Please."

Ben sighed and gave him one of those empty looks that he was never fully able to read. John could only ever guess and most of the time his guess was wrong. Benjamin Linus was not just a closed book of emotions – if one was patient enough to learn how to open it, they'd find that it was written in a language no one had ever seen before. John had been studying it for months, the vocabulary, the structure and melody but whenever he thought he had finally deciphered it, Ben changed the grammar.

"I have to be judged," Ben said and looked at John as if he was supposed to know what that meant.

"Judged? By whom?"

"I think you once referred to it as the smoke monster."


	4. to kiss

**_to kiss_** _[verb] 1. To touch or caress with the lips as an expression of affection, greeting, respect, or amorousness; 2. to touch lightly or gently; 3. to strike lightly, brush against._

"It's very nice of you to drive me home," Ben said as the car slowed down in front of his house.

"You're welcome," John answered with that innate kindness in his voice that Ben thought was the very definition of who John Locke was. "It was a pleasure." He turned around to look at Ben while not letting go of the steering wheel. "You know, it was a very lovely night actually. Even amongst all the prepubescent teenagers and the diabetes-inducing drinks."

Ben smiled but was silent, trying to delay that inevitable goodbye that he didn't want to wish. He nodded eventually and adjusted his glasses like he always did whenever he was nervous. He wanted so desperately to ask John to come inside. Just for a glass of that wine that he kept thinking about. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Are you okay? You're so quiet all of a sudden." John put a hand on Ben's upper arm almost as if to comfort him.

Ben took a deep breath and turned around to look into the other man's worrying eyes. They've only known each other for a couple of weeks yet John genuinely seemed to care about him. Maybe he actually liked him, Ben thought, maybe he was just waiting for him to make the first move. Gathering all his courage, he leaned over and placed a shy kiss on John's lips that didn't last longer than the mere fraction of a moment. He wasn't sure what to expect, certainly he _hoped_ that John would give in to the kiss, but that's not what happened.

Instead John backed off and looked at Ben in bewilderment. "What was that?" he stuttered in confusion. "Did you see that?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," Ben said with a shaking voice and got out of the car. He rushed towards his house, almost tripping over his own feet, and frantically tried to find the keys in his pocket.

"Ben!" John shouted while getting out of the car as well. "Ben, wait!"

"No. I get it. You're not into guys. I got it all wrong. Just forget about it," Ben mumbled as John was coming closer to him. "Just leave me alone. Please, just forget about it."

John stopped where he was but kept his eyes fixed on Ben who just stared down at the keys in his hand while fighting the tears. How could he expect him to ever forget about the kiss that triggered all those memories? The moment Ben's lips touched his he felt the strangest kind of déjà-vu; his life flashing before his eyes like a movie, only it was a different genre than the one he was living in now. He thought of all the forgotten kisses that happened in such a very different place, at a time that didn't matter anymore, and promised to himself he'd never forget those lips again.

But Ben didn't remember any of it. "Goodbye, John," he said and went inside, leaving John standing on the driveway with an abundance of questions and the feeling that this was not at all what was supposed to happen.


	5. smoke

**_smoke_** _[noun] 1. a cloud of fine particles; 2. something with no concrete or lasting substance; 3. a thing or condition that obscures._

They had been walking for hours, only taking a few short breaks so they'd get to the temple walls before nightfall. Ben would've preferred to go alone but there was no way he could convince John to stay behind and he'd rather go with John than knowing he'd secretly follow him.

"I'll take it from here," Ben said and took the last sip of water that was left in his bottle. "You can wait outside."

"There's no way I'm letting you go in there alone." John was angry. They had been having this conversation just half a day ago. "I'm going with you."

"John, what's about to happen down there… you don't want to see this. I don't want you to see this!" Ben said while resting a hand on John's chest to feel his heartbeat, knowing this always calmed them both down. "And you don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"I just-"

"I know," Ben interrupted him and got on his tiptoes to kiss him.

John didn't want to let him go anyhow. He held on to Ben's arms hoping it would convince him to stay. "But will it be safe? What if-"

"John!" Ben interrupted again. "I _have_ to do this." He tried hard to assure John that there was no reason to be scared, by sounding as if he knew what was going to happen. But in truth Ben didn't know what fate would await him and if he'd even make it out alive. The thought that this might very well be the last time he'd be with John destroyed him but he wanted to keep John from feeling the same. A last little kiss on John's cheek and Ben let go of his touch, getting ready to climb underneath the temple. He looked back at John one more time to reassure him that everything would be just fine when suddenly he saw everything so clearly, so distinctly – for the first time he knew exactly what his feelings for John were and he could put into words what he couldn't before; so easily, so naturally that he wondered why he hadn't been able to say it earlier. "I love you, John Locke."

"I love you, too," John replied instinctively though being completely overwhelmed by Ben suddenly expressing his feelings like this. It didn't make letting him go easier.

* * *

The smoke was colder than he had imagined. Ben had seen it countless times before, sometimes getting very close but he never had been entirely surrounded by it like he was now, consumed by its grip, taking in its darkness with every single aching breath. He let it all happen, allowed it to do with him as it pleased, knowing that it would hurt him. That was the whole purpose of facing the monster after all – reliving the pain that he had caused others and taking responsibility for it.

"Hello, daddy," he suddenly heard her voice say for the first time in over three years. That sweet angel voice, he'd recognise it amongst thousands. It kept echoing in his ear, _daddy_. He had stopped feeling worthy of that name a long time ago. When he finally dared to turn around, her striking eyes pierced through him like a knife. How much he missed those eyes, even when they were angry he adored them. "Alex. Oh Alex. I'm so sorry. It was all my fault."

"Yes, it was," she said and took a leap forward, pushing him against a pillar. "Why? Why did you kill me, daddy?"

He choked under her icy touch, frightened by her rage but willingly submitting to it.

"Go on. Say it. Why did you kill me?"

He tried to find words but nothing made sense. If he could just make her understand how sorry he was for everything that happened to her; that he would spend the rest of his life regretting what he had done to her; that her pain was his pain, too.

She kept bombarding him with questions, holding him paralysed against the cold stone at his back. "Why did you let it happen, daddy?"

"Because of Jacob!" he shouted and shocked himself with this sudden revelation as a glow of satisfaction spread in her eyes like wildfire. "I chose him over you and it was the biggest mistake of my life," he added as she loosened her grip.

"Then you know what you have to do, don't you?"

He was still. Of course he knew what he had to do but did she really ask it of him? His entire adult life had been devoted to a man who didn't even seem to care. He sacrificed everything he had and it didn't matter that he lost it all until he lost her, too. He was never prepared to lose her. And where was Jacob when he needed him the most? Where was he? Yes, Ben knew exactly that Jacob had to die.

"Good," she added, as if she was able to read his thoughts. Then she vanished into nothing.


	6. breakfast

**_breakfast_** _[noun] 1. the first meal of the day._

"You haven't eaten anything, Ben," Roger said and looked at his son from across the kitchen table. "What's her name?"

"Pardon?" Ben said looking up from his full bowl of cereal.

Roger shrugged. "Last time you didn't eat your breakfast was when you met that doctor. What was her name? The cute blonde?!"

"Juliet. Her name was Juliet," Ben answered reluctantly.

"Of course. Now tell me, Romeo, did you find yourself a new Juliet?"

Ben didn't even want to acknowledge this ridiculous question with an answer. His father had never been his first choice when he needed to talk about his private life. Yet he didn't have anyone else to talk to either. But he'd rather keep it to himself than tell his father, who could just as well be a total stranger to him. The only reason he stayed was because he felt responsible for this frail ageing man. That and because he didn't know any other life than this.

He stood up and tipped his soggy cereal into the bin without saying a word. If he couldn't leave this life then at least he wanted to get out of this conversation.

"Well, well. I understand. It's not my business," Roger said, leaning back in his chair and suppressing a cough. "I just hope she doesn't break your heart because–"

"That's right, it's _not_ your business!" Ben interrupted him with the vigorous spite of a teenager, rendering Roger speechless. Of course Ben ought to know his father didn't mean to hurt him. All Roger wanted was to understand why his son was so sad this morning. But like most of the times when he wanted to be sympathetic he came off as hostile and judgemental and Ben instinctively blocked every attempt of his to comfort him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to pry," Roger stammered.

Ben rolled his eyes and mumbled something about how his father wouldn't understand him anyway as he was about to leave the kitchen.

"Can I do something to cheer you up?" Roger asked, trying to convince his son to stay.

But Ben only shook his head. There was nothing his father could do. He just wanted to be alone and try not to think about John. At least he had the whole weekend to try and distract himself until he had to attempt the impossible task of avoiding John at school on Monday.


	7. to regret

**_to regret_** _[verb] 1. to feel sorrow or remorse for an act, fault, disappointment, etc.; 2. to remember with a feeling of loss or sorrow._

The time John had been waiting for Ben to return seemed to last forever. He kept walking up and down along the temple wall, too anxious to sit down or think of anything else than Ben's life being at risk. The creeping desire to go after him could only be tamed by the fear that his mere presence could put the man he loved in even graver danger.

When Ben stepped out of the temple, John could feel the weight of all his worries fall off his shoulders. He ran towards him and wanted nothing more than to hold him to make sure he was really back in one piece but Ben pushed him away without even giving in to the eye contact John was trying to make.

"Are you okay?" John asked, desperate to hear his lover's voice.

After taking a couple of deep breaths Ben nodded slowly and opened his mouth to speak but remained silent nonetheless. And John understood that asking more questions wouldn't make Ben open up about what had happened between him and the smoke monster.

Cautiously John reached out to caress Ben's shoulder, afraid that too much contact would make him shy away again. But this time Ben eased under John's touch. His body language was begging for comfort while he was still unable to find his voice. John understood. He wrapped his arms around him, pulled him closer and could feel how Ben let all of his weight lean against his chest.

"It's getting dark, Ben. We should try to sleep." John whispered as he held him even tighter than before. "Do you think it's safe if we stayed here tonight?"

Ben wiped a tear off his cheek and formed a quiet "yes" with his lips.

* * *

When John woke up at the first rays of sunlight he instinctively turned over to where Ben was supposed to be and wanted to snuggle up to him but Ben wasn't there. John sat up, looked around but there was no trace of anyone. All he could find was a letter that had been attached to his water bottle.

Dear John, when you read this I'll probably be gone already. I don't know what will wait for me on the other side but I hope Alex will be there. They say your whole life flashes in front of your eyes the moment before you die. If that's true then I'm about to see a lot of horrible things but don't worry – I'm not afraid anymore because one of the things that I'll see is you and that look in your eyes when I told you that I love you. I will never forget that look. It'll make dying so much easier knowing that I'll leave this world as a man who knew what love is. And if there's one last thing I dare to ask of you then it is that you believe me about this. I do love you. I always have, I just didn't always know it. Please never forget how much I love you, John. Never forget that to me you are special. And do not think this is your fault. It is not. I tried to change, I tried so hard. Not just for you but for Alex, too. But now I have to make a decision. If I stay alive I will fail you, I will hurt you, and you don't deserve this. You deserve someone who _is_ good, not just someone who tries to be. I don't want to let you down again, John. I won't ever hurt you again. I hope you can forgive me one day for leaving without a proper goodbye, without a last kiss. Love you forever, Ben

John held on so vigorously to the sheet of paper that it almost ripped apart. Tears were falling down, dissolving the letters into little streams of blue ink. He didn't know what to do, what to think. Where could Ben possibly go to do _this_? The only place that came to John's mind was Ben's house so he started running towards Dharmaville as quickly as his legs would let him.

When he got there he rushed past Hurley, almost running into Kate and totally ignored their concerned shouting. To him it only sounded like blurred voices, too irrelevant to process now.

"Ben?" he shouted and tried to open the door to his old house but it was locked. "Ben?"

The door opened abruptly and John looked into Sawyer's annoyed face. "What the fuck's going on, Baldy?"

"James. Have you seen Ben?" John asked and entered the house uninvited, looking left and right for any trace or sign of his boyfriend.

"No, what the-"

"Are you sure? James, this is important!" John didn't even realise he was yelling loud enough to wake everyone who still had been sleeping. They all gathered in front of the house that now served as a temporary home for Sawyer and Juliet.

"I need to find him," John pleaded.

Juliet came walking out of the bedroom and rubbed her eyes. "What's going on?"

"He's gonna die if we don't find him, that's what's going on." John couldn't hold back the tears any longer.

"What?" Juliet and Sawyer asked in unison.

He showed them Ben's note and propped himself on the sofa to catch his breath and tried to remain as calm as possible to be able to focus on what had to be done. "Do you have any idea where he might have gone to… to do it? Juliet? Please!"

She shook her head and handed the letter back to John. "I'm sorry."

"I know where he might have gone," Richard said, leaning against the door frame. "He's going to see Jacob."

John grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him outside, not caring whether he hurt him or not. "Take me there! Now!"


	8. magic box

**_magic_** _[adjective] 1. possessing or considered to possess mysterious powers; 2. unaccountably enchanting. /_ _ **box**_ _[noun]_ _1\. A container typically constructed with four sides perpendicular to the base and often having a lid or cover._

The morning hours had passed by and Ben sat at his desk all afternoon, trying to keep his mind off John by grading exams, but he didn't manage to think of anything else but how much he regretted giving in to his own feelings. Again he lost someone special just because he couldn't control his emotions. His mind wandered to the only other time he felt like this: Juliet. They met without any reason but fate – at least that's how he felt about it at the time. She was just standing there in front of the school, like a fierce angel, reminding him of something or someone that was taken away from him before he even knew he needed it.

Whenever he'd seen her waiting to pick up her son he tried talking to her, always making a fool of himself, stuttering, not knowing what to say. She always remained friendly, talkative but without getting too personal.

Eventually he had asked her out on a date – "Just a cup of coffee maybe… or tea if you prefer that." – she declined with an excuse and he never saw her again. He hadn't thought about her for a long time but his heartache over John reminded him of how hurt he was back then and it added to how broken he felt now.

Suddenly the doorbell rang, catapulting Ben back to the here and now. He stood up from his desk and opened the front door but there was nobody in sight. Just the neighbourhood's kids pulling a prank on him, he guessed. He was about to close the door again when he looked down and saw a brown cardboard box on the doormat. Attached to it was an envelope with his name on it.

He opened the letter and read it: _This is a magic box. Whatever you want to be in there, will be in there._

After a moment of confusion, he still came to the conclusion that this must have been some kind of joke, probably a kid from school whom he had given an unsatisfying grade. But curiosity took control so he picked up the box and opened it. Out of it he pulled a potted flower.

"Anthuriums? Why would I want Anthuriums?" he wondered and stepped outside and walked down the drive to see if he could find the person responsible for this.

"You still don't get it, do you?" he heard a familiar voice say from behind him.

Ben turned around, still holding the box in one hand and the plant in the other. "John! Did you do this?"

"Yes. But apparently it didn't work," John answered and bit his lower lip in disappointment.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Ben would have been annoyed at John being this mysterious and secretive if he hadn't been equally excited to see him again.

"It's okay. I have a plan B," John said and took two steps forward, cupping Ben's face with his hands and pulling him closer for a kiss, sweeter and softer even than the one from the night before.

"Do you remember now?" John whispered, letting go of Ben's lips, looking into those blue eyes that glinted back at him in speechlessness. "No?"

"I'm sorry. What am I supposed to remember?"

Although John was almost sad that Ben was still completely oblivious to their previous life, he also knew there was nothing more he could do to make him remember. Ben needed to discover it for himself when he was ready. And the longer John thought about it, the more he realised this meant that Ben fell in love with him all over again without even knowing that they were always meant to be together anyway.

"How about you introduce me to your dad-" John waved at Roger who had been watching them from the kitchen window and was seemingly surprised that he was spotted. "-and we water those Anthuriums?" He took Ben by the hand to lead him inside.


	9. God

**_God_** _[noun] 1. A being conceived as the perfect, omnipotent, omniscient originator and ruler of the universe; 2. the force, effect, or a manifestation or aspect of this being; 3. a being of supernatural powers or attributes, believed in and worshiped by a people, a deity thought to control some part of nature or reality._

Ben's hands were shaking as he reached for the gun he had tucked into the back of his pants. He had been standing in front of Jacob for minutes that seemed like a lifetime to him without saying anything. The right words just wouldn't come and whenever he thought he found them they escaped his grip once more.

 _What do you say to God at the heavenly gates when you realise that He is just a man?_

"Are you going to say something or just stand there all day blocking my light?" Jacob asked without looking up. He sounded so painfully indifferent, as if nothing mattered; as if Ben's tears, his confusion, his agony were not even worth his attention.

Ben finally grasped the gun behind his back as well as the words that he had been empty of. "I believed in you," he said. "I lost everything that ever meant something to me – for _you_." He pulled the gun and unlocked it in one move, then pointed it at the ground, unable to decide if he wanted to let Jacob live or watch him die before he'd turn the gun on himself.

 _What do you do when you realise God doesn't care?_

"So now you're going to shoot me?" Jacob said, keeping his eyes fixed on the gun but never on Ben.

"I was," Ben said. Then he raised the gun to his own head and rested his trembling finger on the trigger.

That was when Jacob finally looked up, looked him in the eyes. "Oh. I see." He stood up and walked towards Ben like he had all the time in the world. "You're going to kill yourself… unless I do _what_?"

"Say you're sorry," Ben demanded. His face distorted to a grimace as he could feel his world fall apart underneath his feet yet again.

"I can't, because unlike you, Benjamin, I'm not a liar," Jacob said with a cynical grin on his face that made Ben angry enough to push the barrel of his revolver hard enough against his temple that the cold metal would leave a deep red mark in his skin.

In the same moment John came running inside, stopping in shock as he realised his eyes weren't playing a trick on him. "Ben. Don't! Please. Put the gun down!"

Ben breathed in a heavy rhythm that became gradually more irregular and ineffective. His whole body was trembling, torn between the insatiable wish to die and the hunger for a life with John.

"Go on, Ben. Go on and end that miserable excuse for a life you have," Jacob said. "I won't stop the bullet _this_ time."

 _What do you do when you realise God is the devil?_

John was speechless. He had imagined Jacob to be merciful, to be loving and kind. But here he was, horrible and cold-hearted – the real monster of this island – about to drive the most important person in John's life insane.

"Don't listen to him, Ben." John cautiously approached him, his body language begging for Ben to lower the gun. "Please. Benjamin. Don't do this. I don't know what I'd do without you."

The revolver became heavier and heavier by the second. Ben thought it would be easy; that once he had confronted Jacob, he could finally leave this world and be free of the pain. But now there was John, devastated at seeing his loved one so close to the edge of the cliff.

"I don't deserve you," Ben muttered through quivering lips.

"You saved my life! Two months ago you stormed into my hotel room and pulled my head out of the noose. You gave me a reason to live, Ben! Please, let me do the same for you." John now stood directly in front of him, never losing track of the other man's eyes. "Give me the gun."

 _What do you do when someone loves you?_

Ben did what John asked of him and lowered the gun with shaking hands. John took it away from him and pressed his lips against his forehead in relief.

"Thank you," John whispered without ever letting go of Ben.

Jacob seemed unimpressed. "I guess this means, I will have to find another way to get rid of you." He sat back down and put a log into his fire before looking up again.

John ignored his words, didn't even grace him with a look. "Come on. Let's get you out of here." He put his hand on Ben's back and led him outside where he would be safe from Jacob's manipulations and mind games.

When they stepped outside Hurley came towards them and offered a bottle of water which John took and opened for Ben. "Drink something," he said and nodded gratefully at Hurley. "Can you take a look at him for a minute? I have to do something."

"Sure, dude," Hurley replied.

"I'll be right back, okay?" John whispered in Ben's ear and petted his tousled hair. "I love you," he added and pulled Ben closer for just a second, fighting the urge to never let go again.

Ben watched him as he walked back towards the chamber underneath the statue, knowing full well what John was about to do. For a moment he considered stopping him but he was too exhausted, too empty to do the right thing. And what even was the _right_ thing? Wasn't that exactly what he wanted? Didn't he come here to avenge his daughter? Maybe if he couldn't do it then someone else had to do it for him.

Finally he heard the muffled sound of a gun being fired, followed by the gasps of the people surrounding him. A strange sense of peacefulness washed through him like waves that cleansed him of his pain. The burden he had been carrying since the day of Alex's death had finally been lifted. It wouldn't bring her back and it wouldn't excuse him from his guilt but at the very least it would allow him to move on.

When John stepped out of the chamber his shirt was covered with spatters of blood that belonged to the man whose command Ben had followed all his adult life without questioning. If there was one person whose belief in Jacob had been stronger than Ben's it could have only been Richard. He seemed to have fallen into an instant state of shock when he realised what John had done. While for Ben the whole world started to make sense again, it was breaking down for Richard.


	10. memory

**_memory_** _[noun] 1. the mental capacity or faculty of retaining and reviving facts, events, impressions or of recalling or recognizing previous experiences; 2. the remembering or commemoration of a person who has died._

Ben walked through the long and empty school corridors in the afternoon hours when almost no soul was left at campus but a few teachers and sports teams. This used to be the time of day when everything about this place existed only to remind him of his loneliness. But things had changed since John had entered his life. His mind kept wandering to the touch of those strong yet gentle hands; to the taste of his lips; to eyes that always smiled at him; to the warmth and the weight of John's body on top of his.

He was just on his way to the teacher's lounge where his newfound love would wait for him, when he walked past a classroom and saw, in the corner of his eye and through the half-open door, that Alex was sitting there on her own, crying.

"Alex?" he said gently and waited for her permission to enter the room.

She wiped the tears off her face in a feeble attempt to act as if she was okay. "Dr. Linus. Hello. I… I was just…"

"May I?" he asked and pointed at the chair next to her. She nodded without looking up. He pulled a tissue from his briefcase and handed it over to her. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, really. I'm just…" She put on an unsatisfying smile and held on to the tissue he gave her as if it was the only thing that still connected her to this world. "It's not that important and I don't want to bother you with it."

He wasn't sure if it was appropriate to ask her about her personal life, to be there in a situation in which she was as vulnerable and fragile as she was now, but he couldn't help but care about her. He only ever knew her as a happy and positive young woman and seeing her in such despair worried him. Even more so – it hurt him. "You're not bothering me at all, Alex, or I wouldn't have asked."

Another smile on her face, which seemed a lot more genuine than the one she gave before, lit up the room. "But don't laugh at me."

"I'd never."

"And promise you won't tell anyone!"

"Promise," he said and leaned in a bit closer, preparing for the honourable task to be trusted with her secret.

"There's this new guy in my biology class. His name's Karl," she whispered hesitantly but the look on his face told her he already knew what she was trying to say. "I have a serious crush on him but I don't think he even knows my name."

"Oh, okay," Ben stuttered. "Right. Well, I'm a little relieved."

"Why?" she said with a frown that made his heart stop for a second for he feared he had said the wrong thing and thereby threw away the trust she had in him.

"Well, you know. I thought it might be something worse," he replied.

"Worse than the total agony of being in love?"

"Oh. No, you're right. Yeah, total agony."

Of course he knew she was right. Love could be horribly painful – he had to learn that the hard way himself – but he wished he could guarantee her that Karl would fall for her, too, for anything else was hardly a consolation. Eventually he dared to speak a piece of advice that he wished someone had given him earlier in his life: "I don't want to lie to you, Alex. Love hurts like hell. Even when it's reciprocated it still tears your heart in two. But if there's one thing I can tell you – as cheesy as it may sound: If you don't risk it then you've already lost."

She bit her lip and didn't seem as satisfied with this piece of advice as he hoped she would be. "So you're saying I should just…. Talk to him?"

"That's usually how people get to know others. I mean, you gotta start _somewhere_ ," he said and giggled.

"But what if he doesn't like me?"

"Then he's not worth it. I know that's probably not what you want to hear now but every heartache passes sooner or later and other people will enter your life. I'm not saying love isn't a good enough reason to cry – it is! But above all it should be a reason to smile."

She took a deep breath and swallowed the last lump that had been stuck in her throat and changed it for a smile that truly came from the heart. "You're probably right. Thank you, Dr. Linus." she said and wrapped her arms around his neck to hug him which completely took him by surprise.

 _Daddy._

"What…. What did you just say?" he asked for he could have sworn she had just called him daddy.

"I said 'thank you, Dr. Linus'."

"No, after that."

"Nothing," she said with a concerned voice. "Are you okay?"

Looking into her eyes was suddenly like looking into a mirror that reflected his true self. He remembered the day he first held her in his arms; he remembered when Charles Widmore wanted him to kill that innocent new-born that he then chose to raise by himself; remembered when she was getting her first teeth and kept him up all night; remembered when she was crawling into his bed because she was afraid there'd be a smoke monster in her tent; when he learned to braid her hair; when he taught her how to read; and how to defend herself; when they decorated her room together and instead of the walls she decided to paint the floor; when she fell in love with Karl; when he couldn't stand the thought of not being the most important person in her life anymore; when he hurt her by locking him away. And then he remembered when he lost her. The shot echoes in his ear; the shot that killed her. Like lightning it went through his heart: the pain of watching his daughter die, knowing that it wasn't by his own hand but that didn't make him less responsible. She was his daughter and she meant the world to him.

He found himself standing on the other side of the room. He didn't know how he got there but he never lost sight of her. "I'm so sorry. I… it was all my fault," he said with tears running down his cheeks.

That's when she finally understood; when her face changed from confusion to realisation. "Daddy."

Ben covered his face and tried to say something, anything, but he couldn't. It was getting so hard to breathe and to think, and while everything within him began to hurt he prayed to whoever might hear it that this was just a nightmare and he'd wake up any minute and forget everything again.

But he didn't wake up. Instead he calmed down when Alex stood in front of him and looked at him as if she understood his pain, as if she felt it too. He would have expected her to run away or to yell at him but not at all that she'd stay and comfort him.

"I can't tell you how much I regret what happened. You were the only thing that mattered and I put you in danger because I was…. I was selfish and I took the wrong choice. I could have saved you but…" He fought the tears welling up in his throat and tried to look at her but whenever he did he felt unworthy of her merciful eyes.

"It's okay, Dad. I forgive you."

He held his breath in speechlessness.

"I understand why you did what you did," she said and hugged him tightly. "I understand it and I forgive you. Now, tell me about you and John."


	11. special

**_special_** _[adjective] 1. surpassing what is common or usual; 2. distinct among others of a kind; 3. extraordinary, exceptional._

Ben was alone when he woke up. The bed he had been sleeping in used to be his own yet it felt strange to him after years of sleeping in ever changing hotel beds. The first thing he noticed about it was that it didn't smell like it used to. Instead it had adopted the scent of its new residents who seemed to have worked hard to make this place liveable again.

After the events of the previous day John had suggested going to Dharmaville. Ben didn't mind either. He trusted John with his life and knew that he made the right decision for him. However, Ben couldn't remember how he ended up in this bed. Exhaustion must have taken its toll on him and blurred his memory.

He sat up and turned around, cautiously feeling the cold and slightly damp floor with his bare feet. It took him a moment to prepare himself to leave the safety of the bed entirely. He managed eventually and went to the kitchen in the hopes that the water supply would still be intact but when he turned the tap on it didn't fill his glass with fresh water but with an unappetising brown liquid.

"There's a water canister in the bathroom," a female voice said from behind him, causing Ben to turn around so quickly it made him dizzy. Unnoticed by him Juliet had been sitting on the couch reading a book.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here." he asked, taking a step back to lean against the kitchen counter.

"Well, Ben, in case you have forgotten again: I live here now," she said and put the book on the coffee table. "John's outside in case you were looking for him."

Ben didn't respond to that, rather he built up enough courage to walk closer to the living room area which also meant he was getting closer to Juliet. He had been avoiding this confrontation for the past month since he came back to the island.

"I am sorry," he said.

"Pardon?"

"I know, it doesn't change or undo the things I have done to you," he said. "I wanted to have you, _control_ you just like I did with everything else. I understand if you can't forgive me, but nonetheless – I _am_ sorry."

Juliet stared at him open-mouthed, an empty silence filling the room as Ben waited for a reply. "Okay," she eventually said. The tone of her voice indicated that she neither accepted nor declined his apology which was a better outcome than Ben had anticipated.

"I'll do everything I can to get you off this island. This is a promise," he said. It was a promise that scared him for he was afraid he might not be able to live up to it but he had to try, if he wanted to right all the wrongs he had done. "Not just you," he added, "but everyone who wants to leave. I'll find a way."

At this point Juliet stood up from the couch and met him in the middle of the room. "Are you really serious?"

Ben nodded. "I'm done lying."

He wished there was a way of knowing if she believed him. They hadn't seen each other for such a long time – a time in which Ben had changed so immensely that he seemed to have unlearned how to read her.

"I think I should find John," he said, thinking that this situation ached for an end.

"Wait!" Juliet went to the kitchen and opened a cupboard out of which she pulled a cardboard box. "When we decided to move in here there was not much left that was usable so we threw a lot of stuff into the campfire. But here's some things that I thought you might want to keep."

She handed him the box and graced him with the gift of a smile – something he didn't remember her doing since before he first revealed himself as the monster he once was.

"I think it's mostly stuff that belonged to Alex and some old diaries of yours."

"I don't know what to say." He looked down at the few things that were left of his previous life and all the memories that were connected to them. "Thank you."

* * *

"What is that?" John asked and pointed at the box that was lying next to Ben's feet.

"Memories," Ben answered. He had been sitting at the campfire on his own for half an hour until John came back from collecting firewood and sat down next to him. Ben took one of the diaries out of the box and didn't even look at it twice before throwing it into the fire.

John watched the pages light up and turn to ashes before looking back at Ben with an expression that unmistakably asked for an explanation.

"That was a _bad_ memory," Ben answered and took another diary that a few seconds later landed in the same spot where the charred remains of the first book were hardly recognisable as such anymore.

John nodded understandingly and tried to get a glimpse of the rest of the box's content. He could make out a handful of framed pictures, a stuffed bunny, some toys and a slingshot. "What about the other things?" he asked.

"They were Alex's."

"Good memories, then," John said and was relieved to see the signs of a smile in Ben's eyes, however faint they may be.

They sat together in silence as Ben kept burning the traces of his past, one by one. There were about a dozen diaries and John only had the chance to get a glimpse at a few of them before they were destroyed. Some had been labelled with years going back as far as 1994.

Ben paid significantly more attention to the last diary than to the others. It was the only one that he opened, flicking through the pages without reading them because he knew exactly what he was looking for. When his eyes settled on the right page it sent a pang through his chest. He hadn't looked at it for more than three years but that didn't mean he couldn't remember every single word which he had written on that fateful day.

He ripped the page out and threw the rest of the diary into the flames. Without waiting for John to vocalise the obvious question that was resting on his lips, Ben handed him the sheet of paper.

September 22, 2004 A plane crashed on the island. No information about possible survivors yet. Ordered G and E to pose as survivors and provide me with intel. Wish I knew the meaning of this. Did Jacob bring them here? Why now? Maybe someone on this plane is going to be important? I'm sure it will make sense eventually but for now there's work to do.

"You want to keep that?" John asked after he finished reading.

Ben nodded. "It makes sense now."

"What?"

"Three days after I found out I had a fatal tumour on my spine, a spinal surgeon fell out of the sky. I thought, if that's not proof of God, then what _is_? But what I didn't understand was-"

"-why the island would make you sick in the first place," John finished Ben's thought.

"Exactly. There had to be another reason for the plane crash and now I know it," Ben said and turned around to face John. "It wasn't Jack who was brought here to save my life. It was you."

John was visibly touched by Ben's words. He handed back the diary page and gave Ben a long hug, unable to hide his emotions. "So you think Jacob brought me here?"

"I don't know. But if he did then it's the only good thing he's ever done for me." Ben leaned over to take one of the picture frames from the box. It showed Alex when she was 8, maybe 9 years old. He may have lost her forever but he still had the memories of her. She was the only thing in his previous life that he felt he could be proud of.

"I am sorry I made you kill him," Ben said eventually as a tear landed on the cracked glass of the photograph in his hands.

"What?" John gently touched Ben's cheek, convincing him to look into his eyes. "You didn't _make_ me do anything. I pulled that trigger all by myself, Ben, and I don't regret it. I will always do whatever it takes to protect you. I love you. Remember?"

Ben nodded and allowed his lips to form a smile, even if it was just for a short moment. "I love you, too," he said and placed a kiss that was long overdue on John's lips.


	12. eternity

**_eternity_** _[noun] 1. Time without beginning or end; 2 a. the timeless state following death; b. the afterlife, immortality._

There was no way of knowing how long Ben had been sitting on that bench because time didn't matter in this place. He watched almost all of them go inside. Some of them greeted him, some didn't. And every time the church door opened it offered an opportunity for him to go to a better place, a place he didn't believe he was worthy of. So he watched the door close again, each time making the thought of stepping through it himself harder and harder.

"Hello, Benjamin."

Ben looked into his lover's eyes and smiled. There he was, the only person who ever truly understood him, who would have had so many reasons to hate him yet he decided to love him instead; the man who showed him that not all goodness was lost within him; who helped him remember how to live without pain.

"Is everybody already inside?" John asked and sat down next to Ben.

"I think most of them are."

"And why are you still out here?"

Ben ignored this question and was silent for a while until he turned to look at John. "We were lovers."

"I know," John said and laughed a little. "I remembered when you first kissed me."

"Why did you not tell me?" Ben asked as a silent tear ran down his cheek.

"I tried to but you needed to find out for yourself."

Ben couldn't sort his feelings. He turned to face the church again and took a deep breath while resting his head on John's shoulder and thinking of the countless times he had done this before. "Alex forgave me. I can't even begin to understand how she was able to do that. I can't understand how you were able to love me either. None of it makes sense and the more I think about it the more I realise I do not belong there." His lips were shaking as he tortured himself with these words. "I know what you're going to say now. You will say that it doesn't matter who we were, it only matters who we are, but the thing is, I will always be responsible for Alex's death." Ben covered his face with his hands as John wrapped an arm around him and kissed his forehead. "I don't think I can ever forgive myself."

"You will one day," John said. "You've got all the time in the world and I'll be with you for as long as it takes."

"No. You should go," Ben said. "You deserve your peace, John. You've worked hard for it."

"Stop it! You know I won't leave you behind. I made a promise to myself when I fell in love with you to always take care of you," John said and cupped Ben's face with his hands before pulling him closer for a kiss. "I'm not gonna break that promise."

Ben couldn't keep a smile from flickering on his lips. Even after all this time he still didn't feel deserving of John's love but at least he could accept that he needed it, perhaps now more than ever.

Their quiet moment was interrupted when Hurley looked through the church doors and waved down at them. "You guys coming in?"

"No. I'm sorry Hugo, we'll be staying here for a little while longer," John said.

"Dude, are you sure? It's pretty awesome in here."

Ben looked up with a bright smile. "Yes, Hugo. We're very sure," he said confidently but actually it frightened him that he had to say goodbye to Hurley; that he didn't know when he'd see him again, _if_ he'd ever see him again. He felt the same about all the other people that were waiting in that church, some of whom became so important to him that he dared to think of them as friends. Those people who started out not only as strangers but as enemies – he'd miss every single one of them.

"You were a really good number 2, Ben!" Hurley said.

"And you were a great number 1, Hugo," Ben replied and watched his friend disappear into the church.

"So it's only you and me again, is it?" John said.

"Not quite," Ben replied. "Alex invited us over for Coq-au-vin-night."


End file.
